


You taste like whiskey when you kiss me

by redhales



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Claudia Stilinski, Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Established Relationship, Feels, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, wedding (mentions)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:56:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhales/pseuds/redhales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek live together and sometimes they have both their families over for dinner. This one, though, is just a little bit different from the others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You taste like whiskey when you kiss me

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wanted to write about an embarassing dinner with both Stiles' and Derek's families, everyone's alive, but it turned out in something else. And I like it more!
> 
> Also, English is not my mother tongue and the work is unbetaed, so if you notice errors just let me know.

Derek knew that Stiles was cooking way before he approached the door.

He could smell a lot of things, like pasta and meat, escalopes maybe, and chocolate and he didn’t even try to identify the different dishes. He just knew they surely wouldn’t starve.

He parked into the driveway, got out of the car, and when he opened the door he took a moment to take in everything.

His house was a _mess_.

There were clothes on the couch and the floor, the windows were closed and it was dark, except for the kitchen, where noises and smell and light come from.

When he walks in there, he’s not ready at all. If he thought the living room was a mess, this is way worst. There’s food on the counter, boxes on the floor, different pans scattered here and there. Something is baking in the oven, something is frying on the burner, and Stiles is stirring something else while trying to get a bottle from the fridge at the same time.

“Let me,” Derek says, walking to the fridge and taking the bottle. Then he sets it on the counter and walks behind Stiles, trying to get a glimpse of the food.

“What are you cooking?”

“A lot of food and yes before you talk I know we’re gonna have leftovers for a week.”

“You also know that all this,” he gestures to the whole kitchen, “wasn’t necessary, don’t you?”

“It’s not like we have both our families over for dinner every day. Now go shower and then come help me.”

“Still not necessary,” says Derek, kissing the spot behind Stiles’ ear.

“Shower,” Stiles says, turning around and aiming playfully a spoon at him, “or I’m gonna stab you! And I swear you won’t be able to heal.”

Laughing, Derek leaves the kitchen and when he’s halfway up the stairs he hears Stiles shouting “Hurry up!”

He goes into the bathroom, strips out of his clothes and enters into the shower without feeling the water. It’s cold, obviously.

It takes fifteen minutes to shower, dry himself and get dressed, and when he walks again into the kitchen, Stiles says “Oh, you’re here! I thought a serial killer murdered you under the shower.”

They cook together for two hours, launching flour at each other, touching too much skin while trying to get cleaned. And that obviously leads to making out, Stiles sitting on the counter, legs spread and Derek standing between them, hands in each other’s hair, getting flour everywhere, until they smell burnt food and they have to bake the potatoes all over again.

When all the food is ready and waiting in the oven or fridge, they clean the dining room, open the windows to let in the soft breeze of summer nights and set the table. They take a shower because, even if Derek already showered earlier, they are covered in flour. But it’s 6.30 and the others are gonna come in half an hour, so they take turns because if they enter into the shower together, they’re not going to get out of there any time soon.

The Stilinskis arrive first, because Claudia, Stiles’ mom, always insist on going there ten minutes early. She says if something comes up and they’re late, it’s not polite. They sit on the couch in the living room, waiting for the Hales, who arrive five minutes late. Derek’s parents greet everyone, while Laura and Cora jump on Derek’s shoulders, hugging him. No matter that they’re not kids anymore, they do it every time they meet.

They move to the dining room, Claudia helps Stiles carrying the dishes on the table and they sit, eating and talking.

It’s easy. There aren’t secrets between the two families. The Stilinskis know that the other family isn’t exactly human, that their son is dating a werewolf and they accepted it a long time ago. They just want Stiles to be happy. And he is.

When they meet for dinner they always trade stories, about werewolves traditions or what happened in the police department that week. Or they tell stories about Stiles and Derek when they were little just to embarrass them. They are family, pack, and it took just a few months to achieve that. The closeness between Stiles and Derek made their families closer too.

They’re eating and there’s the sound of words spoken loudly to make sure the other is listening, there are at least three conversations going on and the clatter of the silverware makes it even noisier, but when Cora out of the blue says “So, have you decided a date for the wedding yet?”, everyone fall silent.

Every pair of eyes is on Stiles and Derek. The Sheriff decides to break the silence.

“Care to explain what’s going on?”

“Stiles,” Derek hisses, “I thought we agreed on keeping it for ourselves for a while.”

“Sorry,” he answers, “I just kind of let it slip. But I asked her not to tell anyone!”

“Do you trust Cora not to say the whole world something like that as soon as she knows it?”

“Boys!” Talia is smart enough to stop their bickering. “Could you explain? Just if you feel like sharing, we don’t want to force you.”

Derek sighs. “We were thinking about getting married.” He glances at Stiles. “We’ve been dating for seven years and living together for three years. Maybe it’s time to take another step. But we just talked about it a few times, it’s just a thought.”

Stiles smiles at him and Derek heart skips a beat. Seven years and he’s still not used to it.

“We both want it,” Stiles says, “we’re just trying to understand if that’s the right time.”

Laura, who’s sitting next to Derek, covers her brother’s hand with her own. “That’s great. Really. I’m so happy for you.”

“And you guys know we love you both and we’ll support your decision,” Derek’s dad says. Everyone nods in agreement.

“You should thank me,” Cora says. “If I hadn’t say anything, those two morons would have probably let you know the day before the wedding.”

“I’m still mad at you, you know,” Derek gets up, but Cora already understood his intentions and she’s running away.

They eat dessert and then Claudia and Talia offer to wash the dishes, since Derek and Stiles cooked. They stay for an hour after dinner and then everyone is saying good-bye and hugging and next thing Stiles know, Derek and him are standing in the doorway, alone.

“Well, that went good,” said Stiles, closing the door.

They climb the stairs and make a run for the bedroom, falling on the bed clumsily, limbs intertwined, watching the ceiling.

“Can you imagine it?” Stiles asks.

“What?”

“Being married,” he whispers.

“You know, it won’t be any different from now. We’re practically already married.”

“Yes, but I’ll get to call you my husband,” Stiles says dreamily. “And we’ll be the Stilinski-Hales.”

“Hale-Stilinskis,” Derek smirks.

“No way, man!” Stiles gasps in indignation. “Stilinski-Hales sounds way better.”

“Whatever,” Derek says, rolling on top of Stiles. “You’ll agree with me anyway. We both know I can be very” he licks Stiles’ neck, “persuading” he rolls his hips down.

Stiles’ breath itches while they rock together. They set a rhythm, hips pressing harder against each other.

“You know,” Stiles whispers. “Maybe you’re right. Hale-Stilinskis is perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to put my Tumblr but I haven't figured out how to add links, anyway it's -> redhales.tumblr.com (come say hi, I don't bite)


End file.
